Body Language. Queen

Toxic.

John's P.O.V.

Downing another vodka I slammed the tumbler onto the mahogany bar, clenching the glass in my hand so hard it could have shattered between my fingers. I was seething. I wanted to throw it and watch it smash against a wall.

Instead I nodded at the barman when he offered me a refill. The last thing I wanted was alcohol after the drinking marathon of last night but I could think of no other option that would calm my rage.

The taste repulsed me but the feeling of it in my system was satisfying beyond compare.

I closed my eyes and begged for this mind numbing sentence to stop repeating itself in my head, it was driving me fucking insane. I was taking it too far but...but I just couldn't stop thinking about it. It was ruining everything. I was ruining everything. I felt so bad for Roger, I can't believe I said those things to him. I didn't mean them.

Just when I see him with Freddie, my blood boils. They act so beautifully together without even wanting to. Roger was all over him, smiling and giggling all the fucking time and Fred just lead him on, complimenting him...they were so close. They always have been.

Fuck it. Yes. I was jealous.

I should be jealous of Freddie, having all of Rogers attention, after all, he is my boyfriend. And I was, of course I was. But a little part of me also wanted the attention from Freddie too.

There it was again. That poisonous sentence spoken by a person I know better than to listen to, 'They're fucking each other, you know.'

No matter how ridiculous it sounded to me and how much I didn't believe that it was true, if someone says something like that to you, you're going to try and ignore it, until you start thinking about it constantly and you start to see little things that you never realised before and fitting them into place and almost making yourself believe that it is true.

That's what was happening...and I couldn't stop it.

I was being horrible to the already overly vulnerable Roger and upsetting him. I hated myself for it. But no doubt he went running to his little Freddiekins.

Fuck. There I go again being a total dickhead. I mean, who else would he go to for comfort, I'd probably go to Fred too.

I downed my third vodka.

I knew I should go up there and apologise, he tried talking to me about it after I accused him of letting Fred fuck him but I was too angry.

I sighed heavily...there was another thing bothering me. Perhaps an even messier situation than this...it was the reason why I never let Roger undress me or touch me.

Honestly, it probably wasn't hard for him to tell that I loved to please him...and that it turned me on too. But I couldn't, I just couldn't let him repay the favour. It's not that I didn't want him to because I fucking did. It was something mental that was stopping me, several thoughts whizzed around my head which stopped me from letting him. It had been several months and he still hadn't seen me naked. I know it's bothering him. I can tell. I know he wants to talk about it with me to find out what's up but...it's something I need to sort out on my own. And until then...I'll continue to stop him.

We're not working out.
How the hell could I say that to him? To someone I completely adored with all my heart and still desperately wanted to keep calling mine.

We were working. I was just jeopardising everything. I could tell it was breaking him because he tried to resolve every little problem we had and he was being so unbelievably patient with me.

And this is how a treat him.
What a lowlife bastard I am.

No wonder he runs off to Freddie.
I gritted my teeth at that intrusive thought.

"Another?" The barman offered.

"No. No thank you." I shook my head and got up, I wanted to go out of the hotel and roam the streets for a while to clear my head. But I knew the longer I went without apologising to Roger the shittier it would make me feel.

So I took a detour, instead of taking the lift up to our floor, I climbed the stairs, perhaps if I used some of this angry energy up by using the stairs I would be less feisty when I saw them.

And no doubt that they would both be in Fred's room.

I wandered across the corridor until I remembered that Freddie wasn't in a room with Brian anymore.

I knocked on Brian's room, "Alright, Deaks?" He smiled at me.

I forced a smile, "Yeah. Which room is Freddie in now?" I asked.

"237, just down there." He pointed, "Is everything alright?" He looked at me suspiciously.

"It will be in a minute." I turned to walk away but was dragged back by him gripping my arm. I pushed him off, "Tell you later." I huffed, walking away from him and he reluctantly shut his door.

I got to Fred's room, I didn't knock, we never do anymore, I walked in quietly and saw the two of them in the bedroom.

I couldn't quite believe what I was seeing, it gave me palpitations and that toxic sentence came back into my head, screaming at me way too loudly.

Freddie was there with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist looking as if he had, or was about to fuck my boyfriend.

And Roger? Well. He had a bottle of lube in his hands.

I swallowed hard, fuck apologising.

I cleared my throat which startled them and they both snapped their heads in my direction and their giggles went silent, their smiles vanished.

"So Charlie is right. You are fucking each other." I spat, turning around and leaving.